Coincidences
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: Spencer doesn't believe in luck or fate... but she does believe in love. And maybe what she's looking for is closer than she thinks.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is a Spanna story, but it's me, so of course it starts off with some Sparia. This is probably only going to be a two- or three-shot, we'll see how it goes. Let me know what you think and if you're interested in reading more. :)**

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"If you were a color, what would you be?"

Spencer glanced down at Aria, who was staring at her rainbow-ripple flavored ice cream in apparent fascination, her eyes following the swirls of yellow, pink, and green. They'd spent the day shopping in this cute little market town just south of Rosewood, and Spencer had shouted Aria an ice cream after Aria had taken her to a bookstore that specialized in rare and antique books, the kind Spencer could rarely get her hands on; Aria then had to help Spencer carry the stack of old leather-bound texts she'd bought.

"A color?" Spencer echoed, dodging around a clump of schoolkids gathered around a stall selling puzzles and games. One of the kids picked up a Rubik's Cube, tossed it up and down a couple of times, and then shrugged, putting it back and looking dejected. Apparently he had as much luck with that as Spencer had had with the last history assignment – she'd gotten a B minus. _Minus_. It was a disgrace. "I don't know. Something soft, probably. Quiet. Like a baby blue or a mauve."

Aria licked her ice cream, looking absently up ahead at a crowd that had gathered around the fountain. "Nah, I think you'd be something bright and vibrant. Like a vivid red or a lime green or something."

"Lime green? Really?" Spencer nudged Aria playfully, accidentally making the smaller girl stumble. Aria glared at her, then rolled her eyes. "So if you're such an expert, what color would you be?"

"Rose pink," Aria answered promptly, but before Spencer could ask why, Aria had grabbed her hand and started dragging her toward the fountain.

"Aria, what are we doing?" Spencer whined, but she jogged to keep up with her anyway.

"You'll see," Aria said, pulling her along. They reached the fountain and Aria slipped through the crowd, leaving Spencer to stand at the back and wonder what was happening. After a few minutes Aria wormed her way through the crowd and back to Spencer. "Can we stay here for a while?"

"For what?" Spencer saw that Aria's eyes were shining; she was definitely excited about _something_. She craned her neck, and finally saw what everyone was so interested in. "Aria, really?"

"It's going to be worth it, I promise," Aria said, a pleading note in her voice. "I've heard of him before, and he's supposed to be really good."

"But." Spencer hefted her pile of books onto her other arm and frowned. "He's a magician. You do realize they're all phonies, right? They're… meretricious."

Aria rolled her eyes. "Quit practicing your vocab words and come relax for five minutes, Spence." She glanced at the piled of books and added, "Well, as much as you can relax anyway."

Spencer grumbled a little, but she followed Aria to a place on the side of the crowd, where they could just see what was happening. The magician, a tall man with long braided hair and spider web tattoos weaving up and down his arms, was standing up the front, apparently turning someone's bottle of orange juice into lemonade. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Spencer leaned against the wall and watched.

When he was finished everyone applauded, and the lady whose orange juice was now lemonade wandered back into the crowd, a bemused look on her face. He went through some more of his tricks, including producing doves from up his sleeve, making himself disappear, and changing the colour of someone's shirt. Finally he folded his arms and surveyed the crowd, and Spencer started pulling Aria away.

"You there."

The voice made Spencer turn, and she found herself looking into the magician's startlingly bright blue eyes. He tilted his head, taking in her appearance, from the purple silk headband to the blue suede shoes, and then he beckoned for her to come closer. Stunned, she took a few steps, and then shared a look with Aria. The smaller girl looked thrilled.

"What's your name?" the magician asked.

Spencer swallowed. There was something in his manner that unsettled her. "S-Spencer."

"Hi." He gave her a wide, toothy smile; she suspected it was intended to put her at ease, but it just made her skin prickle. Then he took her gently by the hand – she quickly gave her books to Aria, who almost collapsed to the ground under their weight – and led her to the front of the crowd, where everyone could see her. "Now, Spencer," he said in a clear, carrying voice, "do you believe in coincidences?"

"Um." Spencer darted a look at Aria, who nodded encouragingly. Of course she would be excited about this; it was just kooky enough for her, but a little too weird for Spencer. She turned back to the magician – _Flash_, declared a name badge he'd pinned to his shirt – and said, "I guess so. I don't know."

Flash faced the crowd and grinned. "How's that for certainty?"

A few people in the crowd tittered, and Spencer felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She tugged at the sleeve of her cardigan, wishing she could just leave already. But Flash winked at the crowd and then turned back to her. "Do you have a cell phone?"

"W-what?" Spencer stammered, caught off-guard by the strange question. This was probably how he made his money; she'd hand him her very expensive phone, he'd pretend to make it disappear – probably just sliding it up his sleeve – and she'd never get it back. Her hands curled protectively around the phone in her pocket.

"It's all right," he soothed, running a hand along one of his spider web tattoos. "I'm not going to steal it."

Spencer blinked. How had he known what she was thinking? Then she chided herself for being so quick to worry. It was such an obvious fear, and she wasn't the best at hiding her emotions. Of course he'd known what she was worried about. She bit her lip and reluctantly handed over her cell.

"I imagine a pretty young thing like you would have a fair few friends," Flash said, making Spencer shiver. Did he have to be so creepy? "Think of a contact you have in your phone. Any one."

Obligingly, Spencer mentally scrolled through her contacts. She did have quite a few, but not many she regularly talked to – just Hanna, Aria, and Emily. Her sister and her parents messaged her sometimes, but not often. She was still sorting through her contacts when Flash asked, "Well? Do you have one?"

"Uh, yeah." She settled on one, the last one she'd been thinking. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, and despite her better judgement she felt a spark of curiosity. She'd seen a magician on TV do this trick before, and maybe if she was this close to it she could figure out how he did it.

Flash took Spencer's hand and had her hold it just above her cell, which was lying flat on the magician's palm. Then he took his other hand and balanced it above Spencer's. He closed his eyes and made a soft humming noise, and Spencer held back a groan. This was so fake. How could anyone believe in this crap?

A few moments passed. Flash kept humming. Spencer looked idly around the crowd. Aria caught her eye and grinned.

And then, to Spencer's great surprise, the screen on her phone lit up. She pulled her hand back fast, like she'd been burned, and her eyes locked on the name on the screen.

Flash laughed, handing her phone back to her. She took it like it was a bomb about to explode, her heart hammering in her chest. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we don't have volunteers hold their own phones anymore." The audience laughed, and Flash clapped Spencer on the back. "Thanks for your help."

She mumbled something non-committal in response and slid back into the crowd beside Aria. Her phone was still ringing, and she was holding it by the edge like she was worried it was going to hurt her.

"Well?" Aria raised her eyebrows, looking at the screen. "Aren't you going to answer it?"

"I…" Spencer hesitated, then forced herself to smile and pressed Answer. "Hey Hanna. I was just thinking about you."

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	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone, and sorry for the slow update. I've mapped out this story now, and there will be four chapters - so we're now halfway through. As usual, thank you so much for the reviews, faves, and follows. I'm excited to share this chapter with you because it has some of my favorite things: Hannily, Harry Potter references, annnnd... vodka! Seriously though, I hope you like it, and please review if you do. Disclaimer: fluff is still not my thing, so if I fail please feel free to laugh at me; I'll definitely join in.**

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"Could genetic engineering prove to be detrimental to society, and if so, how?"

At the sound of the voice Hanna stuck her head around the bathroom door, her hair straightener in one hand and an eyelash curler in the other. Emily sat on Hanna's bed, her Biology textbook sitting open in front of her. She was tapping a pen against her chin, clearly thoughtful.

"You want me to do your homework for you?" Hanna asked, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that normally Spencer's department?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Spencer's not here right now."

"So what, I'm your second choice?" Hanna teased.

Emily closed her book and looked up at her friend. "If I want fashion advice, I'll come to you," she said. "But generally, if I want to talk about genetic engineering or DNA or anything more intellectual than the latest issue of _Vogue_, Spencer's my go-to girl."

"Hey," Hanna said, pouting. "I can be intellectual."

She kept up her mock-offended act while she finished straightening her hair, and when she emerged from the bathroom Emily had finished her Biology work and was now flicking through a fashion magazine.

"Did you even answer all the questions?" Hanna asked, looking at the textbook abandoned on the floor.

"Have you even started the questions?" Emily shot back, and Hanna ducked her head.

"Good point," she said, making her way over to her dresser. There was an array of makeup on it, and she surveyed it with mounting distaste. She was in the mood for something new, but all of the colors, all the brands, struck her as nothing more than ordinary. Not letting herself consider why it was so important to look her best tonight, she turned back to her friend.

"Speaking of our resident Ravenclaw," Emily said, "isn't Spencer coming over tonight?"

"Yeah," Hanna replied, checking the time on her phone. "She should be here in a few minutes, actually."

It was still unclear as to why Hanna had called Spencer. She hadn't even been aware of the mere thought before her fingers had already dialled the number, and Spencer's voice in her ear jolted her back into reality. Not knowing what else to say, she'd invited Spencer over, and now was carefully avoiding contemplating why she was so nervous about it.

"You can stay and hang out with us," Hanna offered, and felt a tiny spark of relief when Emily shook her head.

"Thanks, but no," the swimmer replied, already reaching for her bag. "I promised my mom I'd be home for dinner."

As Hanna accompanied her to the front door, Emily turned to her.

"Why _is_ Spencer coming over again?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I just thought…" Emily trailed off, shook her head. "Never mind."

Confused, Hanna opened the door, and was about to ask for elaboration when she saw who was outside.

"H-hi," Spencer said, walking up the last step.

"Hey," Hanna greeted her. "You're early."

Spencer glanced down at her watch. "Only by forty-six seconds," she said.

Emily snorted, but covered it up with a cough that Spencer pretended not to notice. "I'd better get home," she said, slipping in between the two and starting down the path. As she reached the gate she tossed over her shoulder, "You guys have fun."

Then she was gone, and Hanna was at a loss for words. There was no way Emily had been hinting what Hanna _thought_ she was hinting, right?

Spencer cleared her throat. "So, uh, did you invite me over so we could stand on the doorstep?"

"What?" Hanna asked, still looking at where Emily had disappeared. "Oh. No. Come on."

She stepped aside so Spencer could come in, and then led the way to the kitchen. She was suddenly very aware that she didn't know what to say. She wanted to see Spencer, of course, but that was as far as her plan went. In the back of her mind was a blurry picture of what she hoped would happen, but it was so out of the question that she wouldn't even let herself consider it.

"So," she said, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of juice, "how was your day?"

Spencer settled herself at the kitchen counter. "It was great," she said. "Aria and I went to this amazing bookstore that -"

She stopped abruptly, and Hanna turned around to her, still holding the juice.

"You probably don't want to hear about the bookstore," Spencer said sheepishly.

Truthfully, at this moment there was nothing Hanna would like more. There was something about the way Spencer's eyes came alive when she talked about something she loved, and her enthusiasm would probably be contagious if she was excited about anything besides books.

"No, it's fine," Hanna said, aiming for airiness but hitting something deeper, something she hoped Spencer wouldn't pick up on.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Hanna assured her, noticing that behind the confusion in Spencer's eyes was a kind of surprised delight.

While Spencer talked about the books she'd bought, most of which Hanna had never heard of, Hanna herself poured them each a glass of orange juice. Halfway through pouring her own, however, she caught sight of a bottle hidden between the ketchup and the soy sauce. Sneaking a glance at Spencer, who was still happily chattering about a collection of Shakespeare's works, Hanna pulled out the bottle of vodka and added a splash to her juice. Just a little bit, for courage; although just what she was going to use that courage for was yet to be determined.

A second after she realized Spencer had stopped talking, she also became aware of a presence behind her. When she turned, Spencer was standing there, an amused expression on her face. A hundred excuses flashed through Hanna's mind, but given she was still holding the bottle none of them seemed appropriate. She shrugged in a helpless sort of way, waiting for Spencer to chide her.

Instead the other girl said, "Aren't you at least going to share?"

Before Hanna could figure out what was happening, Spencer had reached around her and taken the bottle, their hands brushing as Hanna let go of it. She watched quietly as Spencer poured a sizeable amount of vodka into both their glasses, and then handed one to Hanna.

"Cheers," Spencer said, raising her glass.

Hanna clinked her glass against it, unable to stop a smile from spreading across her face. Her smile intensified over the next hour, during which she and Spencer finished off almost half the bottle. Eventually they wound up lying next to each other on Hanna's bed, giggling over the story of the first time they'd met.

"… and then," Hanna said, struggling to breathe through her laughter, "I heard you mutter to Aria about how you thought I looked kind of slutty."

"Excuse me," Spencer interrupted, still laughing, "I didn't say _slutty_. I said _trampy_."

"Oh," Hanna snorted, "much better."

"And anyway, weren't you the one who said you thought I was, and I quote, 'one of those preppy girls with more brains than heart and too much confidence for their own good'?"

"How do you even remember that far back?"

The two collapsed into laughter again, and when it died away they lay in companionable silence. Hanna was aware that her heart was beating unnaturally fast, but she chalked it up to alcohol and didn't mention it.

"So where were you when I called earlier?" she asked, closing her eyes to try to stop the room from spinning so much. "It sounded busy."

Spencer let out a thoughtful hum. "Aria dragged me over to see this street magician," she said, and Hanna let the words and her voice wash over her, soothing and warm. "He called me up to do some lame trick."

"What kind of trick?"

"The one where he holds his hand over your phone and tells you to think of someone," Spencer explained, "and then someone calls."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. "So," Hanna said cheekily, opening one eye to look at Spencer, "if that was when I called you, then you must have been thinking about me."

"No," Spencer said, her cheeks flushed red from the alcohol. "It's just a silly trick. It doesn't work."

Inexplicably, Hanna felt her heart sink. She didn't quite know why it was so important that Spencer was thinking about her, but she knew she liked the thought that she was on the brunette's mind.

"Besides, you were the one who called me," Spencer pointed out, her words only slurring slightly. "So _you_ must have been thinking about _me_."

Before she could stop herself, Hanna said, "I usually am."

Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd said, and she snapped her mouth closed. Up until now she'd been doing a good job keeping her feelings even from herself, but now it seemed like they might be out in the open.

Spencer propped herself up on her elbows and looked at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Hanna said quickly, sliding off the bed and going over to her dresser, where they'd left their drinks as they came in. "Do you want another one?" she asked, already pouring more vodka into her glass.

"Sure," Spencer said, watching her curiously from the bed.

Hanna took longer than necessary to get their drinks, hoping that by the time she finished she would be feeling calmer. She was uncomfortably jittery, and the alcohol had dulled her inhibitions enough that she was finally able to admit to herself why. But she knew she couldn't say anything, so as long as she kept it to herself she'd be okay.

She made her way back over to the bed and settled down, curling her legs beneath her and handing Spencer her drink. Her heart was still beating too fast, and being in such close proximity to Spencer didn't help; that, combined with the alcohol, meant that not all of her synapses were firing at full speed. She was still trying to think of something to talk about when Spencer broke the silence, in her voice that sounded like melted honey. The voice was comforting, but the words made Hanna's heart skip a beat.

"Can I ask you a question?

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**Hmm, what do you guys think she's going to ask?**


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